Evoking the elusive muse

I recently had a Beginning Writers Workshop student describe her muse as a Brooklyn gangster.  In fact, she wrote a short creative piece about how he showed up one night to harrass her out of her writers block.  Made me think.  Has your muse taken on any odd characteristics or personas lately?

16 responses to “Evoking the elusive muse

  1. My muse is on the loose, promiscuous and flighty as a floozy.

  2. I think my muse is a fairy – flighty and sometimes elusive. She flits from one story to another, sometimes confusing them and causing havoc. She has glittering expectations but sometimes just can’t dance the dance to bring it all together. But she can be beautiful, youthful and charming when she wants to be. Wish she would quit waking me up at night though.

    • I love her no matter whether she’s beautiful, flighty, elusive, youthful, charming, causing havoc or glittering with expectations.

      I hope she soon realizes that frequent nocturnal visits are a no no. We all need our beauty sleep.

  3. I think my muse is my own big fat ego. It seems everything I write is from a first person perspective and loosely based on something that has happened to me. My oh my, how I do love to write about ME.

    • That’s not a bad thing, Jana. I think we need to discover everything we can about ourselves before we can move on.

      It’s taking me a lifetime to figure myself out!!

      I say, “Whatever you’re motivated to write about is right for you.”

  4. I had a good student named Edward who told me to say “hi” to my muse for him. That made me think. Hmmm. If I did want to say “hi” who would I be contacting?

    So I closed my eyes, turned off the music (is there a muse in music?) so I could probe my thoughts a bit better. I sat there. Dang, my waistband feels too tight. So loosen it; you’re alone after all. I’m hungry. Forget hungry; you’re always hungry; that’s the coward’s way out. I hear lots of things—birds, air conditioner, the random grinding of my computer, odd ticking from my ceiling fan, my breathing. No muses there. You’re stalling again! Okay, okay. What does my muse look like. Whom am I addressing? It is I, the god of boldness!

    Bull corn! Nice try, but no banana. I’m thinking harder. You just don’t want to work on your classes! So sue me; I’m tired of John and Martha today. I can’t see a person, so what do I know about her? Ah, a gender! Well, duh. It’s me, dontcha know. So if it is me, which me is it? The workaholic me? The me-of-the-bad-temper? Some sort of secret me? Think again. Okay, how about the nice-instructor-me? Closer. My muse is not tricky. She does not come and go, leaving me high and dry. She’s very reliable. I know where she lives. Closer. She’s my better half, my big YES, my feel-free-to-write-poorly lady. She brings me presents and promises more of them just when I least expect them. She gives me ideas I didn’t think I’d ever get, and doesn’t need anything back. Yeah, but what does she look like? She looks like me, but a nicer me. She looks like everything good, like birthdays and babies, and hot cookies and Christmas. I think you just spotted her. Yep. I did. And I like her a lot. Mrs. Santa Claus. Happy holidays!

    • I agree 100% with you. Mrs. Santa Claus is a perfect identifier for your muse.

      Don’t tell Mr. Santa this but your gifts have been my favorites ever.

      I’m so glad you took time away from work to do some playing here.

  5. My Hero Ms. Lindquist – You made me laugh out loud! Mrs Santa looks perfect for you! And Happy Holidays to you too!!
    PS – I’ll never ever ever refer to John and Martha again!!
    PSS – On further thought, are you my muse?? You are the one who started me on this writing journey, and because of you I have met the most wonderful and encouraging writing friends. I have had some of the most positive experiences of my life because of BWW! ::High Five::

  6. My muse raises his head in the strangest way. Something may remind me of an old love, an old friend, or some event in my life and off he goes forming a story from it. Sometimes he takes off when I hear a line someone says and a story fashions itself from that one liner. Then again he just shows up in my twisted mind and sends me to places I should never go. That’s when I’m glad he’s around.

  7. Sorry I’ve missed this conversation. I got a real kick out of imaging my BWW friends as their muses.

    My muse is a bit sinister and usually she buries my characters in misery. I envision her as an angel who has fallen into the gulf sludge. Under all of the muck is something beautiful, pure, and white.

    Occasionally she gives me graceful and delicate poetry and I think I have her all figured out. However, when she begins to glow and shine she retreats into those misery laden thoughts and keeps sending me these sinister suffocating characters. I think she may have a split personality.

  8. My ‘muse’ is a sad child, a drunken father, a negligent mother, and a poster of The Beatles coming out of the wall in 4-D horror asking me, “What are you gonnat do about it mate? What are you gonna do about it?”.
    Kurt Vonnegut’s stare.
    Hunter Thompson’s snarl.
    John Irving’s humor.
    The feeling that somewhere I was waiting for me to arrive in this place.

  9. Welcome, John! Your arrival is timely, and I hope you plan to visit often. You’re among comrades here–all alumni, I believe. We all continue to try to walk the walk.

    “It’s like deja vu all over again.” (Yogi Berra)

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